


Wares From Morrowind

by MrMundy



Series: Metanoia [4]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Homesickness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23449438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrMundy/pseuds/MrMundy
Summary: Every so often, merchants would gather in Whiterun with various goods, hawking wares from anywhere and everywhere. Outside of the walls of the city, stalls and tents were put up and the people in the hold would wander over to the area to see what other lands had to offer. Oftentimes, there were foreign weapons and enchantments, spellbooks written in strange tongues and magical artifacts that may or may not have been legitimate. Some called for the locals to buy their homemade jewelry, or tapestries, or clothes of new styles; Others sold foods preserved for the trip, meats protected by frost spells and fruits and vegetables kept much the same way.
Relationships: Male Altmer Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Teldryn Sero, Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Teldryn Sero
Series: Metanoia [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686898
Kudos: 20





	Wares From Morrowind

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on my tes tumblr
> 
> https://tellydryn.tumblr.com/post/186019476276/every-so-often-merchants-would-gather-in-whiterun

Every so often, merchants would gather in Whiterun with various goods, hawking wares from anywhere and everywhere. Outside of the walls of the city, stalls and tents were put up and the people in the hold would wander over to the area to see what other lands had to offer. Oftentimes, there were foreign weapons and enchantments, spellbooks written in strange tongues and magical artifacts that may or may not have been legitimate. Some called for the locals to buy their homemade jewelry, or tapestries, or clothes of new styles; Others sold foods preserved for the trip, meats protected by frost spells and fruits and vegetables kept much the same way. 

There was one stall, however, a quiet little thing with an old Dunmer snoozing in his seat that caught Teldryn’s eye. He’d come along in hopes of finding something from Morrowind - homesickness sometimes crept over him, and when Ariquar offered to go because he wanted to see if there were any Altmer wares, he’d leapt at it.

The stall he’d stopped at was small. Quaint in its goods, various trinkets and jewels, paintings and toys and figurines fashioned into the likeness of Morrowind’s various flora and fauna. The Dunmer sitting behind the stall must have been quite the craftsman - detailed cliff racers hung from the overhead boards of the display, plush netches sat upon the shelves. Paintings covered other parts of the stall, nearly every inch of it having a canvas of some size on it. Most were landscapes depicting life before the eruption of the Red Mountain. Teldryn recognized several locations - a busy market street in Blacklight, the waters on the coast where he knew his father used to take him and his brothers when he was around. 

One painting stood out more than the rest. A dunmer couple standing side by side, holding each other. One was taller, his beard trimmed into the fashion of the time, his hair long and black and hanging down to his shoulders. His clothes were that of a merchant, layers of red and gray, with a heavy cloak hanging from his shoulders. The other had her greying hair pinned up delicately, curls hanging down beside her ears. Her dress was simple, nothing expensive, and she bore no jewelry except for the ring on her finger, her arm wrapped around her husband’s. 

They looked strikingly like younger portrayals of his parents.

“Excuse me, sera?” Teldryn said, tapping on the stall’s wooden frame. The Dunmer behind the stall took several moments to wake, his eyes blinking slowly as he gathered in his surroundings. 

“Yes?” Came the crackling response from a voice laced with age. 

“This painting here, this portrait - how much are you selling it for?” Teldryn asked, his hand instinctively going for the pouch on his side. Ariquar had noticed his absence from his side after a few moments and was heading back, head tilted to one side inquisitively. 

“Nobody’s had an interest in it, so I’ve never really put a price on it. Nords don’t really buy the paintings…” He trailed off, a hand on his chin.

“Well, I’m quite interested in it,” Teldryn said, pushing the conversation. Ariquar stood beside him, now, taking in his body language and expressions - his brows were knit together, but there was a faraway look in his eyes.

“Adamant about the painting, are we?” Finally, the merchant shifted so his elbows rested upon the stall’s front shelf, lips tilted up into a grin. “What has you so interested in a portrait of a merchant and his wife?”

Hesitation fell across Teldryn’s form as he thought of some way to word himself without sounding strange. In those quick moments, the merchant leaned onto one elbow and smiled, drumming his fingers on the wood.

“You know, I painted this for my mentor after the birth of his second son. But maybe you already knew that, Torchbug.” 

At the nickname, Teldryn’s gaze shot upward, eyes widened. Disbelief ran through his features before he let out a short bark of a laugh.

“Lyrnos! I should have realized the moment I saw you!” He said, and the merchant stood and stepped out from behind his stall, arms reaching for Teldryn. He was taller, but more withered - he was much weaker looking than Teldryn, and his low ponytail was completely white, obviously from age. He wrapped his arms around Teldryn tightly, pulling him in close for several long moments. When he stood back from Teldryn, he held him at arm’s length to study his face, his expression bright.

“Look at you! You’ve shaved nearly all your hair, and these marks!” At that, the merchant Lyrnos grabbed Teldryn’s chin with one hand, turning his head one way, and then the next. Teldryn pulled back, laughter in his voice as he rubbed his chin.

“I grew up! You can’t have expected me to be little Torchbug my entire life, hm?”

“Ah, you’re right.” Lyrnos said, leaning back onto the front of his stall. “So you’ve gone from little Torchbug to a mighty warrior, then? And who’s this - another heart you’re breaking?” He gestured to Ariquar, who had been standing, slack-jawed, watching the entire conversation unfold. At the statement aimed at him, he raised a brow slowly and turned his gaze directly onto Teldryn, who laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks coloring ( though he would deny that little detail ).

“Bit more serious than that. Lyrnos, this is my husband,” He emphasised the word as he reached for Ariquar’s arm, pulling him closer. “Ariquar. Dearest, this is my father’s oldest apprentice, Lyrnos.”

“A pleasure,” Ariquar said, extending his arm to shake Lyrnos’s hand. “So, you knew Teldryn when he was young, then?”

“Quite young. He was but knee-high when his father first hired me.” Lyrnos said, eyes twinkling. Mischief filled his gaze as he looked at Teldryn. “I have plenty of stories to tell about him.”

“I think I’d like to hear them sometime.” With a quick glance at Teldryn’s reddening cheeks, Ariquar knew he’d said the right thing. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind us opening our home to you so I could hear everything you have to tell of him, right, my love?”

“I –” Teldryn started, and then clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “He’s family, I wouldn’t turn him down, even if he told the most embarrassing stories.”

“You might just regret that, Torchbug.” Lyrnos laughed, crossing his arms. “This was to be my last year travelling, so I don’t see the harm in cutting the journey short. I was prepared to make a few more stops here in Skyrim before heading back to Blacklight - perhaps rest is the better option.”

“When you’re done here,” Ariquar said, his smile reaching his eyes, “We can show you to our home in Riverwood. And then you can tell me everything about Teldryn.”


End file.
